


Reflection

by Sharo



Series: HermitCraft Season7 Smut fics [9]
Category: Hermitcraft
Genre: Biting, Bruises, Cunnilingus, Early morning thoughts, F/M, Marking, Multi, PWP, Poly!Hermits, Scars, best guess of what would create a mirror in Minecraft, handjobs, implied Cleo/Joe/Xisuma, marking kink, the Hobbit Hole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:49:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27888571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharo/pseuds/Sharo
Summary: Xisuma reflects on a night spent in good hands. And gets distracted when the results are more visual than he had imagined.
Relationships: Cleo/Joe Hills, Cleo/Xisuma
Series: HermitCraft Season7 Smut fics [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856650
Comments: 22
Kudos: 47





	Reflection

He stood in front of the ice and glass mirror, clothes forgotten on the bed behind him. He barely recognized the body reflected back.

His body.

He was familiar with the marks and scars he carried, written and carved into his skin and soul. A life of fighting, struggling and living in survival in multiple worlds. Weapons, claws, deaths; they all left their marks. He knew each one, hidden beneath his armours, beneath the compression suit and void helmet. Even the internal scars; void damage in his joints, lightning damage to his heart, the hardening in his lungs from trying to acclimate to Overworld air.

But none of that could compare to the likeness before him now.

His own scarred fingers traced the blooming bruises and love bites from last night, tucked in and around and covering and highlighting the multitude of scars across the body in the mirror. Patterns that nearly formed flowers and canopies of color among the pale slashes and knots of discolored flesh, once damaged and torn. Dark reds and light purples, pink and dusty browns in fingerprints and handholds and bite marks.

It was beautiful. 

Orange hair fell over his shoulder, and he met Zombie Cleo's gaze in the mirror.

"Keep your eyes on me."

He could still see her hand moving though, felt her cool skin brush his arm aside before pressing against the dark palmprint at his hip. He exhaled at the warm ache, slow and steady as her palm dug in and dragged towards his back. She kept her eyes up as she kissed his shoulder, lips barely covering the bite marks carefully arranged as an open poppy over the spidery lightning scar. Hard nails scraped against his ribs, tracing the same red lines that dipped in and out of the bites across his chest.

"Do you see what we do, now?"

If he opened his mouth he didn't think he would be able to answer coherently, her hands and her lips bringing back the exquisite memories of mere hours ago. He felt feverish, as if her gentle touch brought each spot to life, warming from the inside like a personal brand. He didn't dare to move, her eyes still pining his gaze in place, dark green to dark violet.

"So quiet with your armour off." Her lips traced his ear and he blinked for what felt like the first time in an hour. "I've already proved that I can hear you, that I  _ see _ you." Her words were punctuated by fingertips digging into the dark bruises either side of his nipples and his eyes shut without thinking about it, pushing into the ache. "I feel how much you want it, hands on your skin, another body against yours, claiming you." Her voice lowered, husky with her lust. Her legs bracketed his as they knelt, her weight pulling him back into her embrace.

"Look at me."

She nipped his ear when he tried to turn his head. "In the mirror, X. Look. At. Me."

Green eyes captured him, looked into and through him. Pale skin and dark bruises framed by pale skin and exposed bone. 

"I'd set Joe on you again, but we both know what he'd say." Her breasts rubbed against his back, thin strands of hair twisting and tickling between them. "If you can't be hurt, you're not loving right." One hand rested on his collarbone, playing with the dark hickey there. "We can bite you, bruise you, and you'll remember it for a time, and then the marks will fade." Her other hand was tracing down his abdomen, scratching and pinching already tender skin. "Or you can remember that we love you anyway, regardless of what's on your skin, or where you can breathe." Her strong fingers wrapped around his erection, twisting roughly as her other hand pushed against the bruise over his pounding heartbeat. "Even if we leave, even if  _ you _ leave, you'll still  _ belong. _ To  _ us _ ."

And she bit down on the corded muscle of his neck.

He came with a silent shout, barely aware that he had been that close, but giving over to it all the same. Her words were rougher than Joe's and no less true. He may doubt himself, run through a million scenarios of what if's and could haves, but the Hermits were his family, and they would treasure him as much he did them. 

Soft lips kissed the new ache on his neck, drawing a quiet hiss when he could catch his breath again. Cleo's low giggle made him smile for no other reason than the sound of her happiness.

"Were you seriously trying to sneak out on us, X?"

"Just for a walk, Cleo." He let his head rest against her shoulder, listening to her lick her fingers clean. "I know better. If I didn't come back you and Joe would come hunt me down."

"You say that like you're interested in being chased."

He blinked at the ceiling, but the light oak wasn't translating for his orgasm-addled brain. "Um.."

"We could chase you through the woods; the wolves after Little Red Stridersuma." she nuzzled against his ear, making him shiver as her voice dropped even lower. "And when we catch you, we take you back to our den and  _ eat you. _ "

Joe's voice from the bed was sleepily amused. "What have we discussed about eating our friends, Cleo?"

"Ugh. 'Friends are not food.'" she repeated. But he could feel the smile against his face, the warmth of her body against his as she pushed him back upright. "And you know damn well that's not the kind of eating I meant." A mostly dry wool was brushed over his mess, drawing a soothing sting from tender bruises.

"Or at least ask him if he's okay with it first. It's not for everyone, you know."

Xisuma chuckled, knowing this was an age-old running joke between them even as Cleo sighed.

"You see what I put up with, X? Maybe you and I will play wolf, and we'll hunt the dogcatcher."

"Joe wouldn't have nearly as much fun being caught."

A yawn came from the bed. "Very true. So why don't you schemers come back to bed, before I end up with two sets of icey toes joining me. We can discuss pet play or erotic fairy tale retellings after sleep and breakfast."

"But I'm all worked up and horny again."

"Then get your wet lips over here and sit on my face. Because I'm not climbing out of these warm blankets."

Cleo squeezed Xisuma in a tight hug, stifling her giggles in his hair. "Oh, help." she whispered between girlish laughter. "I'm going to get  _ eaten. _ "

Xisuma chuckled and held onto her with an arm to pull her forward, coming up to his hand and knees with Cleo draped over his back. "Unless you manage to smother him first." She balanced easily against him, letting her legs drag as he crawled back to the bed.

Joe was curled in the center, blue eyes clear for all that he still sounded half-asleep. He didn't complain when Cleo rolled onto the bed from Xisuma's back, or when she moved his pillow from beneath his head to against the headboard before straddling his shoulders.

Xisuma watched Joe's hands cup Cleo's bare ass, squeezing gently as he encouraged her closer, muscles in her back flexing as she arched and ground down against him. Cleo had no problem at all vocalizing her pleasure, moans and growled commands as she gripped the headboard and let her head fall back.

The edge of the mattress pressed against the bruise on his ribs, his chin rested on the thumb-and-forefinger bruise that circled his wrist. And even though he wasn't touching either of them, Xisuma felt connected, a part of the lovemaking as Cleo whined and gasped, her hips moving in tiny motions as Joe splayed a hand at the small of her back, supporting her until she slumped forward again.

A pale teal hand reached between her legs to caress the face beneath her. "Such a pretty mouth, Joe.”

Cleo laughed at the responding swat on her butt, rolling sideways to spread out on top of the blankets. A long leg stretched out, toes pointed at Xisuma where he rested at the other edge of the bed.

“You want potions for any of that, or just planning on wearing your marks again?”

He lifted his shoulder in a little shrug. “Check back in the morning, I’m good for now.”

Joe’s hand patted the empty spot beside him, humming in contentment as Xisuma climbed back into the bed. Cleo curled around Joe’s other side, head tucked against him as she reached out, accepting Xisuma’s hand and tugging it to the center of Joe’s chest. 

“Are you both going to sleep now, or do I have to sing a lullaby?”

"Shut up, Joe." Cleo's voice was fond, and it sounded like 'Good night.'


End file.
